


I haven't got a clue what to do with you

by okaystop



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-24 13:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaystop/pseuds/okaystop
Summary: "Let's get this straight," Tommy said, clearing his throat. He took enough of a step away from Jon that it was noticeable. Jon nodded for him to go on, watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. "I'm only agreeing with this arrangement so my father will shut up."





	1. Jon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SelfRescuingPrincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelfRescuingPrincess/gifts).

> For SelfRescuingPrincess, who prompted Vietreau with “Let’s get this straight, I’m only agreeing with this arrangement so my parents would shut up.” 
> 
> Title is lyrics from Robbie Williams' "How Peculiar."
> 
> I don't have a podsa tumblr but if you'd like to prompt me for anything, you can [go here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vRLGDsRuzHtsQVH2kKssTWyn-n8goN7th7LJooyWGaAh5dFrY2RD8YzA6Nxwct9jBHiwyUH_OirqWvQ/pub).
> 
> \--

Jon slogged down the stairs then stopped in the hallway outside of his father's office, arms crossed over his stomach, shoulders hunched forward. He wasn't in pain and didn't have a stomachache, but he was more anxious than he'd ever felt before. Even the bottoms of his feet felt tight. What was going on behind that closed door was going to alter the course of the rest of his life, and he didn't even get a say in it. 

He knew this was likely his fate, had known since he was a young boy that eventually, one day, his parents were going to invite someone into their home, negotiate the terms of an arrangement, and he was going to be bonded to someone he didn't know. It's just the way things were done in this city, for an alpha like Jon whose family wasn't well to-do enough, who wanted to get more out of life. He wouldn't be allowed the freedom to find his own omega, not if he wanted to take care of his parents, his brother, have his own family. Alphas were, after all, hard to come by, sometimes. 

He knew all this and, still, his heart raced and his breath hitched.

Behind him, in the living room, he heard a half-snort and a sigh. Jon turned. Standing there in the open doorway, the late afternoon sunlight lighting him up like some kind of apparition from behind, was Jon's future husband - Tommy Vietor.

He stepped forward, as though pulled by a string toward Tommy. He dug his heels into the floor and stopped, straightened. "Hey," he said.

His stomach twisted when the man walked into the hallway, his cold, blue eyes fixed on Jon, jaw set sharply. His dark blond hair fell in a wave over his forehead, and his cheekbones were hollow and tight. 

"I'm Jon," he said, surprised at the tone of his own voice, more gentle than he'd probably ever spoken before. Like his body knew not to startle Tommy, knew that he needed to ease in slowly. He smiled, warm and easy. After all, it was likely that his father and Tommy's father were going to come to an agreement and the two of them would be spending a lot of time together going forward.

"I know who you are." 

His eyebrows went up. He might be from a lower class than Tommy was, but Jon was still the alpha in this situation. He squared his shoulders. "And you're Tommy," he continued, since the opening he gave him to introduce himself wasn't taken.

Tommy barely nodded.

This wasn't what Jon expected, and he had to rearrange all of those expectations. It was easy to assume, based on stereotypes and Jon's limited life experience, that Tommy, an omega, would be different, deferential, culled to want approval from Jon. It was immediately clear this wasn't the case. He held himself steady, fists at his sides, didn't cower at all, despite Jon standing just a few steps away. Jon didn't have too many experiences with omegas, but those that he did were the opposite of this.

"Do you think they'll be in there much longer?"

Tommy shrugged. He kept his focus on Jon though, like he was waiting for Jon to back down, which he wasn't going to do.

Jon uncrossed his arms and walked over closer to Tommy. Now, at an arm's reach away, Jon immediately felt an urge to draw Tommy close, to breathe him in. He hadn't expected his body to react like that, hadn't expected Tommy's scent to fill his nostrils and seep into his pores right from the off. 

"Let's get this straight," Tommy said, clearing his throat. He took enough of a step away from Jon that it was noticeable. Jon nodded for him to go on, watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. "I'm only agreeing with this arrangement so my father will shut up."

Jon was taken aback. But before he could say anything, ask anything, do _anything_, the door to his father's study opened and he turned when his father and another man - Tommy's father, he assumed - walked out.

"Jon," his father said, a little stern and a little sad. "This is Tom Vietor. You and his son, Tommy, will be married this Saturday afternoon. Everything has been arranged and agreed upon." Tom slapped a large palm down on Jon's father's shoulder, making his dad wince a little. Jon always felt a little out of place himself around other alphas, so he couldn't imagine what his father, a beta, felt like.

Jon smiled, even though he felt weird and light-headed, and extended his hand to Mr. Vietor. "Thank you, sir," he said, giving him a firm handshake. "Your son will be in good hands."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Mr. Vietor said, huffing a laugh. He nudged his son forward. "Go on then, Tommy. He's going to bond with you. Don't just stand there."

For the first time since turning around to find Tommy standing there, Jon saw him make himself smaller, shrink away from his father, drop his chin down. He kept his eyes on the floor as he jerked forward toward Jon. This time, when he spoke, his tone was soft, accommodating. "Jon," he said.

Jon reached out and curled his palm over Tommy's elbow. The touch shot a jolt of heat through him, and he forced himself not to react. "Tommy," he said, his voice low. "It's good to meet you."

Tommy shivered, just a little, but enough that Jon felt it. When he looked at Jon though, his eyes were dull. "Good to meet you too," he said, in that same, soft tone as before. Jon wanted to shake him, get him to talk like he had before, but instead he simply held his gaze for a long moment.

"Come along, Tommy," Mr. Vietor said. "We'll see you both again on Saturday for the ceremony. I'll bring the final paperwork then as well."

Jon watched Tommy fall a half step behind his father as they left. Tommy didn't turn back to look at him, though the set of his shoulders told Jon that he knew Jon was watching him go. 

A moment after the door closed behind them, Jon's father stepped up alongside him. "Are you all right?" he asked. "I know this isn't ideal, but the Vietors are a good family, and Tom has promised a lot to ensure you and his son are well taken care of. I have all the contracts in my office. You should review them."

Jon appreciated his father, both of his parents, really, and understood that if they could, they'd let him have his own say in every part of his life. But that wasn't the way the world worked, not here. Maybe it did somewhere else in the world, maybe even somewhere else in the country, but not here. "Thanks," he said. He rubbed his hands against the sides of his legs. "I'll do that now."

\--

Fifteen minutes ago, Jon and Tommy signed their Massachusetts state marriage license. 

Ten minutes ago, they signed a bonding contract drawn up by Tommy's father's lawyers. 

Now, they stood on opposite sides of a sparsely-decorated soundproof suite with a spectacular view of the harbor.

Jon spoke first. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he said, meaning it. He could smell Tommy's anxiety, teetering just on the edge of fear. 

"Yes, we do," Tommy said dryly. "We signed a contract that said we'd bond. You somehow managed to convince my father to let you do it in private. He's expecting to see the evidence. Are you really going to break the contract?"

Jon hesitated. Of course he wasn't going to break the contract he'd signed. But he also wasn't going to force a bonding onto someone else. He wasn't going to push Tommy onto the bed, hold him down, and sink his teeth into his neck without Tommy wanting him to. "Like I said before, the contract didn't stipulate a timeframe," he said carefully. He'd read it through a half-dozen times to be sure. "We don't have to do anything tonight," he said, firmly.

Tommy rubbed his arms, shoulders relaxing. He looked over in Jon's general direction, surprised, his pale eyebrows raised to his hairline, but kept his gaze averted. "I assumed that's what you wanted," he said after a moment, quietly. "You said you wanted it to be private, just between us. Isn't that -? We're private now."

Jon lifted a shoulder then leaned against the wall. "I'm not interested in forcing something on you when you clearly don't want it, can't even look at me."

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to do, as an omega? Defer to you. Give in to whatever you want, _please_ you." His tone matched the one Jon remembered, from the day they met, when Tommy said he was only doing this to get his parents to shut up. Everything else had been different, submissive. Jon preferred this, liked more when Tommy was defensive rather than demure.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't have much experience with alpha-omega relationships. Both of my parents are betas. They thought I should - we have some debts that needed to be paid and this - your father was willing to help."

Tommy sneered. "I'm well aware I was all but sold to you, Favreau. You don't have to remind me."

Jon scrunched up his face. "Look," he said, "we signed contracts and a marriage license. This is it, for us. I hope we can come to some kind of agreement or understanding or - whatever - so we're not miserable for the rest of our lives." He spoke slowly, consideringly, and watched as Tommy visibly relaxed in front of him. That was a good sign, he thought, seeing Tommy react to him in that way.

"I don't want to be miserable for the rest of my life," Tommy said tentatively, "but I also - didn't want to do this."

Jon swallowed. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, you've made that clear. It's not like - I would have liked to have a choice too," he admitted. 

"You're an alpha," Tommy said with a tinge of disgust in his tone. "You always have a choice."

Jon shook his head. "I didn't have a choice in this."

They looked at each other, Tommy's dark blue eyes meeting Jon's now, finally. Jon tried to relax him with a look, relax them both. 

After holding his gaze for a moment too long, Jon cleared his throat and looked away. "I'm going to shower. And I'll sleep on the couch tonight." He didn't wait for a response before slipping his duffel bag over his shoulder and ducking into the bathroom.

\--

Tommy went into heat a month later.

He texted Jon mimd-afternoon to say he was leaving work early because of it. Jon stared at the message for a long minute, considering his reply. Then, he typed out _What do you need from me?_ and waited.

Tommy's reply came about twenty minutes later. A simple _Will you come home?_ that made Jon's heart skip a beat and his head swim with wonder. He flicked off an _on my way_ and put in for last-minute heat/rutting leave before hurrying to the train to get home.

Jon didn't know what to expect. He couldn't read Tommy's tone in those four words on his phone's screen. They hadn't discussed this yet, even though they probably should have before now. He knew Tommy wasn't on suppressants, had stopped taking them after their bonding ceremony, as stipulated in the contract, but that didn't mean either of them were fully prepared for what that meant. For what they needed to do about it.

It took him half an hour to get home, and Jon let himself in and deadbolted the door behind him. It was an assault on his senses, Tommy in heat. Jon flattened himself against the closed door and gave himself a moment to relax, clear his head. He clenched his fist at his side. 

The most important thing, he reminded himself, was that he was here for Tommy. Tommy didn't have to be alone for his heat. Jon, who was not rutting (would his rut and Tommy's heat eventually sync up? he needed to Google that), knew he wouldn't feel any uncontrollable urges around Tommy. Nothing besides his usual one to take care of and protect Tommy, which he could do even without Tommy's agreement. That was what he was here for, as Tommy's alpha. He could take care of him, make him happy anyway he could, keep him safe. 

"Jon?" Tommy's voice was hoarse, tired, so close to a groan.

"I'm here," he called out, pushing away from the door and striding quickly to Tommy's bedroom. He stepped in through the open door and stopped.

Tommy sat at the end of his bed, dress shirt unbuttoned and opened, shoes off, still in his khakis. His hair was damp, mussed up, and sweat sheened across his forehead, down the sides of his neck. "Jon," he said again. He looked at him, mouth open, desperate, but his hands grasped the bed quilt at his sides.

"I'm here," Jon repeated. He took a halting step forward. "Anything you need."

Tommy nodded, swallowed once, twice, his throat working as he strained his neck to stretch back. "Water," he said. "And - "

"Water. And a cold compress. Do you want ice cream? I bought some chocolate chip yesterday." Jon waited for Tommy to agree before he left, leaving the door open. 

He should have thought this through. He should have come home prepared, even if it meant getting home later. Jon didn't want to leave Tommy alone in his bedroom. The air in their cozy apartment was alive with Tommy's tense energy; he could feel it. It got under his skin but he couldn't think about that right now. "You can keep talking," he said, his voice loud in the quiet apartment. "Just talk to me, Tommy, whatever you want."

"Yeah," came the reply. "Yeah, okay. I - god, it's been so long. I forgot what this is like. How - I just want to crawl out of my skin."

Jon busied himself with filling a water bottle, packing a large glass with ice, soaking a washcloth in cold water. "If you want to go back on suppressants after this, you can. We can - make excuses about it." It would get tricky, seeing that they already had to fumble around explaining to their families why they weren't bonded yet. They could do the same about Tommy's suppressants if they needed to.

"No, no, I - I can handle this." It didn't sound like he was handling it at all, but Jon bit his tongue. "It's - fine."

He scooped out a small mountain of ice cream into a bowl and stuck two spoons in it. Jon had to take another moment for himself before he returned to Tommy's bedroom.

Tommy had taken off his khakis and was sitting, back against the headboard of his bed, in his boxers and unbuttoned shirt. He was sweating more now, his skin almost glowing in the waning late afternoon sunlight. He arched towards Jon, rising up onto his knees. "Jon," he said.

Jon set the glass of ice and the water bottle on the nightstand. He pushed the bowl of ice cream into Tommy's hands and stood over him, cold washcloth in one hand, hesitating for a moment. Tommy looked up at him, pupils dilated, lips parted, like he wanted to ask for something but didn't know what. Jon pressed a knee against the edge of the bed and reached out to unfold the wet washcloth against the back of Tommy's neck. He palmed the cloth down, stretching it under the collar of Tommy's shirt, along the broad expanse of his shoulders.

Tommy listed forward, one hand cradling the bowl of ice cream and the other pressed against Jon's stomach. He moaned and tipped his face up towards Jon. "Please -"

Jon carded his fingers through the hair at Tommy's temples, hands shaking a little. This was really the first time Jon had been able to touch Tommy, like this. His hair was damp, soft, and his skin warm. "I'm here," he murmured, both feeling and seeing Tommy relax into his touch. "I'll take care of you."

When Tommy leaned his forehead against Jon's abdomen, Jon closed his eyes. He murmured comforting words, repeating Tommy's name over and over again as he stroked his fingers through Tommy's hair, down the back of his neck. Then suddenly Tommy was scrambling out of his shirt, tossing it aside, and Jon curled his fingertips into the bare skin along the sides of Tommy's spine.

Tommy shoved the bowl of ice cream aside, and neither of them cared that it tumbled off the bed and spilled onto the floor. He held Jon's hips in his big palms, cheek tight against Jon's abs. "_Please_," he moaned out.

Jon didn't know which was worse - not giving Tommy what he biologically needed right now, during his heat, or giving it to him and having Tommy hate him for it after he comes out of it. He had to make a decision.

"Yes," Jon whispered, "yeah, okay." Before he knew it, Tommy was pulling on Jon, pulling his hips until Jon was on the bed too, tumbling down on top of Tommy, covering him, pressing him against the bed. "I've got you. I'm here for you."

Tommy's hands moved over Jon's back. He untucked his shirt, shoved it up so he could touch bare skin. He nosed at Jon's shoulder, his throat, breathed out against the side of his neck. Jon pressed his mouth against Tommy's forehead. "Tell me what you want," he said. Jon wouldn't do anything that Tommy didn't ask of him.

In response, Tommy rocked his hips up against Jon's, and he realized they were both hard. Of course, Tommy was, and of course, he was (or at least well on the way to getting there), but feeling them rub against each other through a few layers made him shudder and moan. "Tommy?"

"You," he breathed out. "Please Jon, help me. I want you to. I _need_ you." He was almost hissing out the words, a desperate, wanting look in his tone. That was all it took for Jon to make his decision.


	2. Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy couldn't help the pained look that flashed across his face. He couldn't leave well enough alone, even knowing that his mother had no more control over this situation than he did. "I don't want to do this, Mom. Please don't make me."
> 
> "He won't hurt you," his mother said. "I know that, in my heart. He'll be good to you."

Tommy's mother stepped in front of him and smoothed out the shoulders of his suit jacket before straightening his tie. She didn't look him in the eye, but when she sniffled a little, he sighed, shoulders sagging. "Mom."

"Oh, don't mind me," she said. She lifted a hand to press her palm against his face, gave his cheek a light pat. "I just can't believe you're going to be bonded today. I'm so proud of you."

He almost rolled his eyes, but his mother didn't deserve that. She didn't do this to him, not really. The entire thing was his father's doing. He'd been insistent since Tommy presented as an omega that his future was going to be planned out for him. Not like his sister, Taylor, a beta, who was free to do whatever she wanted and whomever she wanted and also probably get married to another beta of her own choosing. No, Tommy's entire life up until this point was controlled by his father and, going forward, would be controlled by his alpha. By Jon.

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly have a choice," he muttered.

She looked at him sharply. "Don't say such things," she said, her tone with an edge to it that Tommy rarely heard coming from her. "You're very fortunate that your father's found you an alpha from a good family, a quiet one. You'll be treated very well." She paused thoughtfully. "I shudder to think of the alternatives."

Tommy shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from arguing, even as his mother continued. 

"Jon is very handsome, sweetheart, and he seems nice enough. He'll take care of you."

"I don't need anyone taking care of me," Tommy argued.

"Of course you do. Everyone does. Look, Tommy, sweetheart, the best advice I can give you is to be good to him, trust him, and do everything you can to make him happy and satisfied." His mother finished with a firm jut of her chin, her way of telling him that was that, nothing more to discuss.

Tommy couldn't help the pained look that flashed across his face. He couldn't leave well enough alone, even knowing that his mother had no more control over this situation than he did. "I don't want to do this, Mom. Please don't make me."

"He won't hurt you," his mother said. "I know that, in my heart. He'll be good to you."

That answer, this whole thing, didn't sit well but there was nothing he could do. He knew that. He did. He just didn't want to give up so easily.

"Now, you look very nice, sweetheart," his mom kept going, fluffing his hair. "Try and smile. It's not the end of the world." It sure felt like it was, but Tommy forced a teeth-filled smile and let his mother lead him into the court chamber where he would be married.

The worst part of it all was the way his body traitorously reacted to Jon. 

Years ago, before his father allowed him to go on suppressants, he'd reacted during a heat to an alpha at his boarding school. It was a common thing that happened, especially at schools like Milton, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing. It might have been much worse, had the alpha he reacted to been an asshole or something. But he hadn't been, and he helped Tommy through the heat - physically, at least. He just never talked to Tommy again after the weekend they spent holed up in his dorm room. Tommy begged his father for suppressants, and he was on them by the end of the month..

Since then, his body never betrayed him. He hadn't had to deal with the heat pooling in his stomach, the feeling of being so on edge he was sure to fall, or the idea that the only thing he needed to do was be filled and knotted, in years. _It didn't happen to Tommy anymore._

Except then it did around Jon.

During their first meeting, he stamped it out by acting like a brat, by making it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Jon and this sham they were being forced into.

Now, standing in front of Jon, a judge, and a stack of papers they both had to sign that gave Jon complete ownership over Tommy, he couldn't stop his body from reacting. It was embarrassing that his heartbeat quickened and he could feel his face flush. His knees wobbled, slick forming between his legs. He remembered to do his breathing exercises, focused on what he needed to do and say, and avoided touching Jon as much as possible.

He only hoped that it wasn't noticeable, that his suppressants were doing their job enough that his scent wasn't strong. He had no way of knowing if he was successful, not with the way Jon's pupils dilated, the raspiness in his voice as he answered the questions asked of them both, or the jolt that went up Tommy's arm as Jon touched his hand.

Later, after they signed the marriage license and the bonding contract, Tommy's father took control of the situation. In a loud voice, he commanded attention and said, "Only one thing left before we get these two to the honeymoon suite and give them over to their base instincts."

Tommy knew what was coming. He reached up to loosen his tie and unbutton the top of his dress shirt. He hated that this part had to be public, a callback to horribly archaic days when fathers insisted on visual verification of a bonding. He hated that this thing between him and someone else was being removed from all possibility of intimacy. Not that he wanted intimacy with Jon, but -

"What are you doing?" Jon asked, his voice low but intense.

"The bonding," Tommy said. "You know what you're supposed to do, don't you?" He _truly_ didn't mean for it to come out so condescending, but the idea that an alpha had no idea how to bond with an omega was laughable.

Jon winced, barely, then set his chin firmly. "Of course I do, but I'm not going to do that now, in front of all these people." He reached out and touched Tommy's upper arm, turned him toward him. "That's - private, just between us."

Tommy huffed. "Tell that to my father."

It took a moment of Jon looking at him, looking like he might be able to see right into his soul, before he nodded once and then turned back to their parents, who were mostly pretending not to listen. "We're going to go to our hotel room now," he said firmly. He didn't let go of Tommy's arm. "Thank you, all of you, for being here today as witnesses. We both appreciate it very much."

Tommy watched Jon as he spoke, the line of his jaw, a small knick where he must have cut himself shaving, the way his smiled and showed a gap between his front teeth. He felt the ease of the words, felt himself relaxing under the steady grip of Jon's fingers on his arm. Tommy definitely didn't look at his father.

As if on cue, his father spoke up again. "I'd prefer it if you handled the bonding with my son now, before you leave. It's in the contract."

Jon cleared his throat and stood his ground, something that Tommy rarely saw anyone do around his father. He had to remind himself that Jon was an alpha too. "Yes, bonding is in the contract, but you made no stipulations about time or place, and we'd prefer not to do such an intimate ritual in front of an audience."

Tommy's lips parted in surprise. He felt anxious sweat drip down the side of his neck, over the very muscle that Jon was meant to be sinking his teeth into right now, if Tommy's father had his way. Their voices, steady but growing louder as they argued, were muffled in Tommy's mind, and he kept his focus on Jon's fingers digging into his arm. Maybe he'd have bruises, he thought, then realized he wouldn't mind if he did.

Somehow, Jon convinced everyone that the bonding could be done in private. Then, quickly, Tommy was ushered out of the room and across the street to a hotel room, where he was left alone for the first time with Jon, his alpha, mate, _husband_.

\--

Tommy woke up slowly, with great difficulty. He was dry-eyed and cotton-mouthed. It took a lot of effort for him to even open his eyes. He felt heavy and satiated, loose-limbed after a long night of really great sex.

When he did get his eyes open and mind focused, he found himself alone in his bed, naked under wrinkled sheets. Warm sunlight slipped in through the drawn curtains. A glance at his phone told him it was nearly noon. He hurt everywhere, a pulsing ache that started in his thighs and moved up between his legs, up into his chest. He pressed his fingers against a bloomed bruise above his elbow and whimpered.

Images from last night flashed through his mind like a slideshow. His heat-addled brain gave everything fuzzy, dream-like edges, but he remembered the big stuff. 

Like he remembered Jon asking him again and again if he was sure. He remembered when Jon finally gave in, his mouth wet and hot against Tommy's bare skin. He remembered how Jon's hands, fingers slender and curved, felt between his thighs, wrapped around his dick. He remembered feeling full to bursting with Jon finally inside of him. He remembered practically climbing Jon to get close enough to make the dizzying feeling of being in heat go away. He remembered that when Jon came inside him that first time, he felt the world go white from the inside out. 

He stretched out against the bed like a cat, pressed his face and nose into a pillow, and breathed in. Jon's scent lingered everywhere and mixed with the unmistakable smell of sex. Despite the soreness, Tommy felt better waking up than he had in a long time. The only thing that would make it better would be if Jon was still in bed with him.

Tommy pushed himself up on his elbows and slid out of bed. He pulled on a clean pair of boxers and combed his fingers through his hair before heading out from the bedroom. He found Jon in the living room, sitting on the couch with his laptop over his bare thighs. He looked up when Tommy walked in.

"Hey, good morning. How are you feeling?" Jon looked wary, worried. He closed his laptop and pushed it aside.

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. "Fine," he said, then changed his mind. "Good. Really - good, actually. I - thank you, Jon. For last night. I know it probably wasn't what you wanted to be doing."

Surprise crossed Jon's face. "What? No, you don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for. I just hope you don't - I mean, I don't want you to be upset or uncomfortable or regret coming to me like that." He paused, struggling a little. "I hope you _enjoyed_ it, Tommy."

His face grew hot, and he flushed down the sides of his neck, too. Tommy couldn't look at Jon in that moment. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes, I enjoyed it." There was only one way he could have enjoyed it more, but Tommy couldn't convince himself to bring up knotting right now. He knew Jon hadn't knotted him the night before, but he'd wanted him to, so badly.

Jon relaxed. "Good. I'm glad to hear that. We should have talked about it before you had your heat, and I'm sorry that we didn't." He breathed out, nodded a few times. When he spoke again, it was soothing, gentle. "I should have made sure we covered that so what happened yesterday didn't have to happen."

Tommy blanched, a sick feeling somersaulting inside of his stomach. "So we didn't have to -" He stumbled over the words, hoping he was mishearing Jon. " - have sex?" He thought Jon had wanted him too, wanted to help him during his heat. Had it been a pity fuck? Just an alpha helping out an omega because of a biological need? But Tommy had _felt_ like it was more than that, and he hated being wrong. 

Jon's eyes widened as he shook his head. "No! No, that's - what I want, what you needed, I know. I just meant that I was worried about taking advantage of you." He hesitated, lowered his voice, calmed them both down. "I was terrified that you'd wake up and regret it."

"No," Tommy said quickly. He could feel his heart rate start slowing down, that tangle in his gut unraveling. "I wouldn't have asked you to come home if I didn't want you."

He watched Jon relax fully, shoulders slouching, face widening into a smile. "I'm so glad you wanted me. I - want you too. Heat or not."

Tommy's breath stopped somewhere in his throat. "You do? Why didn't you - take me? You have every right to demand that of me. You're the alpha here. I belong to you." If Jon wanted Tommy, there was nothing stopping him, and they both knew that. Part of Tommy worried Jon couldn't possibly be telling the truth, couldn't possibly really want him like this, or else he wouldn't have waited.

Jon crossed to Tommy, reached out to cup his palm over Tommy's shoulder, draw him in toward him, toward the heat of his body. "No," he said, voice low, hoarse. "I don't own you. You're your own person. We're in this together, whether we had a choice or not, okay? I will never demand or take anything from you that you don't want or aren't willing to give."

Tommy felt small, like he wanted to curl up, have his back rubbed, fingers slipping through his hair. He couldn't look at Jon, hated being censured like that. He shuddered a little, found a response caught at the back of his mouth. Jon's fingers found his chin, lifted his face. "Tom," he said. "Look at me. I want this to be the both of us, can we do that?"

He trembled. "Why?"

Jon opened his hand, palm warm against Tommy's cheek. He stepped forward, eyes wide and kind. "Because it's what we both deserve."

Tommy fell forward against him, pressed his nose and mouth against the side of Jon's throat. He nodded, let Jon's arms pull him closer. "Thank you," he said quietly. 

Jon rubbed his back, up his neck, his long fingers sinking into Tommy's hair. "I want us to be happy together," he said, mouth against the top of Tommy's head. "I want us to try." 

"I want that too," Tommy said. He turned his head, breathed out until Jon's mouth found his, kissing him slowly, steadily. Tommy let himself give into the kiss, sinking into Jon's embrace.

\--

Six months after they married, Tommy was certain that he wanted Jon to bond with him. They never talked about it, not since that first night, so he wasn't sure where Jon was on the idea, but he suspected that Jon wanted it too.

During Tommy's last heat, while Jon's knot was buried deep, snug inside of him, Tommy almost told him to do it, now, _please_. He knew Jon well enough at this point to know he wouldn't do it, not while they were biologically compromised. Not even if, as Jon's chest covered Tommy's back like a weighted blanket, Jon had worried the skin at the side of Tommy's neck, panting. So fucking close to where Tommy wanted him to be. Where he _needed_ him to be.

Tommy made sure dinner was waiting for Jon when he got home from work. "What's all this?" Jon asked, unwinding his scarf from around his neck and taking off his coat.

"I was in the mood," Tommy said, deflecting a little. "It's just - pasta with a simple tomato-basil sauce, but I got that Argentinian wine you said you like. It's almost ready, so if you want to change first, you have time."

Jon looked adorably confused, and Tommy couldn't blame him. He usually only cooked like this in the days directly following his heat, when his mind and body ganged up together in an overwhelming need to find ways to thank Jon for taking care of him so well.

Jon set his bag down and crossed over to Tommy, worry creasing his brow. "Is everything okay?" he asked gently. 

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, of course. Just -" Shit, he wanted to wait for this to come up naturally, over a third glass of wine, over the cheesecake Tommy was baking in the oven.

"Tommy?" He set a hand on Tommy's shoulder, his thumb brushing the underside of his jaw. 

There was nothing he could do but lean into Jon's touch, his body long-since acclimated to the feeling. The soft pads of Jon's fingertips, the gentle way he knocked his knuckles against Tommy's chin. Even though Tommy stood a few inches taller than Jon, Jon still somehow made it feel like Tommy had to raise his face to look at him. Tommy's breath stuttered, and the words went out before he could swallow them down. "I want you to bond with me," he said quickly. "I want us to bond. I want -"

"Yes," Jon said, a little sharply, hissing from the back of his throat. "God, yes. I was waiting for you to say something." He stepped in closer, and Tommy set a hand flat against Jon's chest. When Jon spoke again, his voice was low, a hoarse whisper just between the two of them. No one else ever got to hear Jon sound like that. "I want to bond with you so badly, Tom."

Despite every fiber of his body being at the ready to sink into Jon's arms, Tommy's brain remembered their dinner cooking in the kitchen behind him. "Okay, all right, let me -" He disentangled himself from Jon's arms - how had Jon managed to get a hand underneath the side of Tommy's shirt like that? when had his shirt even come untucked? - and backed up into the other room. "I'm just going to - shit, okay, do you want to eat now or -?"

"Later," Jon said, suddenly right behind him.

Tommy shivered. "Yeah, later," he echoed. He fumbled with the knobs to set the sauce to simmer, to turn off the boiling water, then sidestepped away from Jon to dump the pasta into a colander. It could wait, he thought, no, it _had_ to wait, really. "Let me just - the dessert -"

"You were going to woo me into bonding with you?" Jon asked, amused, as he leaned one elbow against the counter and watched Tommy move around the kitchen through heavy-lidded eyes.

Tommy flushed. "Uh, yeah that was the plan. Obviously, I didn't need the plan. All I had to do was ask." He opened the over and got the brownies out, set them down heavily on the stovetop. 

Jon touched Tommy between the shoulder blades. "All you had to do was ask," he repeated, stepping up so his chest pressed against Tommy's back, his arms encircling his waist. "And I said yes, didn't I?" he murmured. "This can wait. We'll be hungry later," he said. He nosed at the side of Tommy's neck. His teeth grazed there, too.

Tommy's knees buckled, but Jon kept him upright. He closed his eyes and let the feeling of Jon touching him, the smell of Jon's cologne, the press of his mouth against his skin, wash over him. "Yes, good idea," he whispered.

It didn't take long for Jon to get them both to the couch, where the early evening sun cast a wide, warm patch of light from the window across the room. Tommy got his shirt off, tangled only for a moment in his haste, then cast aside. He sat across Jon's lap, shoulder and the back of his head resting against the back of the couch. Jon's palm flexed against his hip, down his upper thigh.

Their closeness made Tommy's head fuzzy, and not in the way his heat made him feel. This was something different, something better, something more _real_ between them. He looked at Jon blearily, lips pressed into the kind of smile that made him think mornings in bed. 

Jon raised a hand and pressed his thumb to the side of Tommy's Adam's apple. He could feel his own pulse and Jon's beat heavily. "Are you sure?" Jon asked after staring at Tommy's neck for a long moment.

Tommy inclined his chin and gripped Jon's wrist. "Yes," he said emphatically. 

A beat and then Jon cupped Tommy's face, turned him so they were looking at each other. Jon's eyes were dark, wide, as he leaned in to kiss him slowly. The kiss lit Tommy up from the inside-out, and he couldn't help but fight Jon for control. He slid his tongue in alongside Jon's, tasting him, sucking and whimpering. Jon hitched him better on his lap, rocking against him, and Tommy let out a long groan. "_Please_," he gasped.

Jon pulled back and nodded a few times. His fingers returned to the side of Tommy's neck, to the hinge of his jaw behind his throat. "All right," he breathed out. "This is it, okay? We're - we're going to be bonded here in a second, Tommy." Jon sounded desperate, like a sob was caught in his throat.

Tommy touched his jaw, turned his mouth into the back of Jon's hand. "I know," he said, breathless. "I want it."

Jon nodded again and swallowed hard. Tommy fought to keep his eyes open as Jon lowered his head and mouthed at his jaw, throat, the side of his neck, where he had just been touching. Jon's mouth was hot and wet, but it wasn't enough. He was about to tell him to stop teasing, but then Jon's teeth scraped the muscle at the side of his neck. 

Tommy moaned and his eyes rolled back the moment Jon's teeth sank into his skin, and he shuddered, clinging to Jon, as they bonded.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & kudos are always very much appreciated.


End file.
